


Drowned Memories

by ElfrootWarrior



Category: BioShock 1 & 2 (Video Games), Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, but I wouldn't call it unhappy either, characters losing their mind, drinking of blood aka adam, kerry is slightly spliced, no graphic violence but there are a few corpses, not quite a happy ending cuz bioshock, rapture isn't the most pg environment, v is a big daddy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 07:13:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29979261
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElfrootWarrior/pseuds/ElfrootWarrior
Summary: Subject Phi (V) is a Big Daddy. All he knows is that he has to look after his Little Sister. Strangely enough, there's someone who feels like nostalgia.
Relationships: Kerry Eurodyne/V
Comments: 2
Kudos: 17





	Drowned Memories

**Author's Note:**

> It was a fairly random idea to make a Cyberpunk and Bioshock crossover.   
> I'm not familiar with Ancient Greek, so for the sake of this story, phi is pronounced as 'fee' as that is closest to V. (I saw some debate online, and I have the feeling that the 'fai' pronunciation is English?)
> 
> The song in this fic is just called "My Funny Valentine"; feel free to listen to it when reading this (I like Gideon Emery's rendition).   
> The Little Sister's lines are those from the game.

Once there may have been a young man who came to Rapture as an engineer. Rapture had called to him, perhaps, because he couldn’t be himself on the surface. He wasn’t allowed to fall in love with other men. His creations and ideas had no place in society. And Rapture? Well, in Rapture there were no Gods, no Kings… only man. Exactly what the young man needed. 

He may have had a name once, but now long forgotten. Sometimes it was on the tip of his tongue, a whisper in his ear, a vague notion that called to him. Yet, each time it was just outside of his grasp. It usually happened when his little sister, his darling Evelyn, talked to him.

“Mr B!” She’d cry out. “I see an angel, an angel!” 

And he swore he had heard V, if only for a second.

He lugged himself through Rapture, the city still abuzz. He’d go past shops, bars, theatres, and jazz lounges. Maybe, the young man had visited those too. Maybe… 

The Big Daddy halted in its heavy tread when he saw a large poster on one of the walls. It showcased a man holding a mic seductively. ‘Eurodyne live in the Afterlife Jazz Lounge, 11 March 1955’. There was something about this poster that gave the Big Daddy a faint impression of rough hands, soft lips, and a warm body. 

Evelyn suddenly grasped one of his large hands and tugged playfully. “Come on, Mr B. It’s time to find some angels!” She bounced ahead of him. The Big Daddy looked at his left hand, the Phi sign in metal on the back of his glove. He followed slowly as always, the poster fading to the back of his mind as if it had never existed.

*-*-*-*-*  
Subject Phi didn’t pay much attention to the deterioration of Rapture over the coming years. It didn’t matter to him; as long as he had a little sister to look after, everything was fine. This new age brought splicers with them though, so more dangers for his little sister… speaking of… he had a new little sister.

Evelyn had grown too old - this was all Phi knew - and now his little sister was called Claire. Claire was his everything, his darling. This was the only thing that concerned him, the rest was simply background noise. 

They walked through Rapture, feet wet from flooded floors. The Rosie models rarely fixed the city anymore. There were so few left anyway - Big Daddies and people alike. Or what was left of said people. 

Phi and Claire found their way into the Afterlife Jazz Lounge situated in Fort Frolic. The eccentric figure Sander Cohen ignored them. Cohen presided over Fort Frolic, and he was mostly busy talking to himself or wailing about how everyone else was ruining his art. Art wasn’t quite a concept that Phi understood anymore. Once, in another life, he had admired it. He wasn’t sure. 

There was a young man lying on the stage floor with faint pink hair. His eyes were still open, and its irises were tainted pink as well from splicing. Phi watched as Claire poked her needle into the Angel. 

“It was a pretty Angel, Mr B,” Claire said cheerfully as she continued to stick the needle here and there into the corpse to gather the ADAM. Phi gripped his rivet gun tightly as he looked around. The coast was clear. 

_“My funny valentine, sweet comic valentine.”_

The singing was coming from behind the tattered red curtain. Phi’s knuckles tightened, the gun almost groaning due to Phi’s supernatural strength. 

_“You make me smile with my heart.”_ The voice was husky and wonderfully melodic. 

Phi chanced to turn towards the curtain, and he approached it slowly. Rivet gun at the ready in his right hand, he pulled the curtain a little to the side to peek inside.

_“Your looks are laughable,”_ an Asian man was singing to himself in front of a mirror, half of the light bulbs that surrounded the mirror were broken. The man had something cupped to his chest, and his eyes were closed as tears trickled down his face. _“Unphotographable… Yet, you’re my favourite work of art.”_

Claire was done gathering ADAM, and had moved closer as well. She had an arm wrapped around one of Phi’s legs. “I hear all those angels singing in a pretty choir,” she whispered to him. This man wasn’t an angel yet though.

Instead of continuing the song, the man repeated the same lines. Halfway through, he opened his eyes and his eyes landed on Phi and Claire’s reflection in the mirror. Alarmed, he turned around. He swallowed. His eyes darted from Phi’s large form to Claire’s tiny one. Phi noticed the faint hunger in those eyes, no doubt wanting his little sister’s ADAM. The singer wasn’t entirely spliced up yet, but the desire for more ADAM was definitely there. 

“When the lights go out, Mr B and I come to visit.” She announced. Her voice still carried the same cheer. 

“I… I don’t mean any harm,” He said as softly as possible. Big Daddies didn’t attack people just to have their little sisters harvest the ADAM, so Phi had no reason to attack. Phi lowered the rivet gun, and the man sighed in relief. 

As Phi watched him, the Big Daddy had that same feeling of familiarity again. And he was fairly sure he had felt that way before; it took him a minute or two to realise he had seen that face before on posters. Phi had even heard the man sing when a gramophone was playing a song. Wasn’t it ‘Eurodyne’? The answer he came up with wasn’t satisfying. There was something else about this Eurodyne other than ‘seen him on a poster’, but his mind remained foggy. His earliest memory was of Evelyn smiling up at him. 

Phi approached the singer, his feet stomped across the wooden floor heavy with rot. Eurodyne closed his eyes again, as if waiting for the Big Daddy to kill him. 

Phi simply grunted - he was unable to talk after all - as he towered above the other. Phi softly patted him on the shoulder. He tried to wipe away the tears on Eurodyne’s face as gently as he possibly could. The fabric of his suit must have felt rough nonetheless. 

The singer gasped slightly. His eyes opened and he eyed the Big Daddy curiously. He lowered the thing he had kept pressed against his chest. It was a framed photo of him and another man; they were embracing each other as they smiled at the camera. 

Claire bounced up towards them. She smiled up at Phi and then at Eurodyne. Claire wiped her mouth clear of blood. Judging by the empty syringe, she had been drinking the ADAM. 

“I’m ready for dream time, Mr Bubbles.” She held her arms up. Phi picked her up and effortlessly put her on his shoulder. It was time to find a vent for Claire. He turned around and walked away. When Phi got to the curtain, he looked back at Eurodyne. After a moment of hesitation, he held out a hand. He grunted softly a few times and gestured for the man to come closer. 

Still wary, Eurodyne approached Phi. The Big Daddy waited until the singer grasped his hand. The singer still kept the photo close with his other hand, as if he was afraid he’d lose it forever. With Claire on his shoulder and Eurodyne holding his hand, Phi left the Afterlife. 

“Time for a nap, sweet angel,” Claire said to Eurodyne.

“It’s Kerry,” the man mumbled. 

“I’m a good girl, right Daddy?” She continued, completely oblivious to Kerry’s comment.

As they moved through Fort Frolic, Phi could hear splicers arguing in the distance. Kerry had started humming the same song he had been singing earlier. 

“No, no, no, that won’t do!” Cohen had been awaiting them in the foyer of Fort Frolic. “You can’t take away my star! I need to make art. Art, I tell you!” 

Phi growled and pointed the rivet gun at Cohen. 

“Unzip’m Daddy!” Claire squealed. She pointed at the artist in question. Kerry hid behind Phi as quickly as he could. 

Phi approached Cohen with as much menace as possible. Deciding he’d rather not mess with a Big Daddy - only the very desperate did - Cohen bowed with a flourish and held his hands up in surrender.

That day Phi had not only gathered ADAM, but also another companion.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. :)  
> It's not really meant to be more than this. I might be tempted to try a bit with Phi's 'unmasking' (I like to think of Phi being a little similar to subject Delta, so his body isn't creepily grafted into the big daddy suit) or try something from Kerry's perspective perhaps.  
> Oh well...  
> I hope you'll have a nice day! :)


End file.
